


Like The Sunset

by fandomfatale



Category: Jurassic Park (Movies), Jurassic World (2015)
Genre: F/M, Poor Barry, feeeeeeeelings, he can laugh about this, jealous!owen, titian beauty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 07:35:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4296168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomfatale/pseuds/fandomfatale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry did his best to distract him, but it was too late: Owen had already seen her.</p>
<p>One-shot. Takes place in between Owen and Claire’s date and the events of the movie. Owen’s pretty miserable when he sees Claire flirting with another guy. (Seeing her at all is tough enough.) Barry’s POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like The Sunset

**Author's Note:**

> Heavily based on my headcanon [here](http://fandomfatale.tumblr.com/post/122610455613/the-way-i-imagine-it-owen-asked-claire-out-the).

Barry did his best to distract him, but it was too late: Owen had already seen her.

 

" _La femme_ , _la femme_ ," he grumbled to himself as his friend's eyes alighted on the pretty redhead at the top of the stairs.

 

Owen went very still.

 

Barry heard him inhale sharply, and then watched as Owen looked away from her quickly, only for his gaze to be drawn back almost instantly, despite obvious resistance.

 

Owen glanced over at Barry, embarrassed. He didn't like having his weaknesses exposed. Or blows to his ego.

 

They weren't over in this part of the park very often but it was a hot day and they had decided to make the journey and take a long lunch at one of the resort's restaurants. Barry was the one who had wanted to pop into the Innovation Center – he had a child-like enjoyment of the holograms - but he was regretting it now. What were the chances they would cross paths with Claire Dearing?

 

Owen and Claire had gone on a single date five months ago. From what Owen had told him it had been a complete disaster – they both had a miserable time and Claire had left early, excusing herself with an insultingly flimsy excuse. Barry had had to listen to Owen complain about this “date from hell” for three days, usually in the form of sentences begun with “And another thing…”, spaced out between 30-minute intervals and without even the pretense of a segue.

 

On the fourth day Owen tracked Claire down and asked her out again.

 

Barry had not been entirely surprised, especially since, at one point, Owen had described Claire’s hair as “titian” and another time as “like the sunset”.

 

Claire had zero interest in a second date, and had told Owen as much in no uncertain terms. And, the way Owen recounted it, not particularly politely either. Barry had the great privilege of hearing quite a lot about this event as well.

 

This sort of flat-out rejection does great damage to a man’s sense of self worth, even when that man should have realized that the woman in question wanted nothing more to do with him. So Barry didn’t think much of the fact that Owen had trouble letting it go. Letting _her_ go. And Owen was a hunter by nature, it was one of the reasons the raptors connected with him so well. Barry had assumed he just liked the challenge she presented.  

 

But five months was a long time to be hung-up on a one-date affair. And the way Owen was staring at her now, Barry wasn’t so sure this was about smashed egos or the hunt. Or that it ever was.

 

“I can laugh about this,” Owen assured him, forcing a smile.

 

Barry raised his eyebrows skeptically.

 

Owen wasn’t the type to let himself be paralyzed by anything. He certainly didn’t mope after Claire. He went on other dates. He didn’t strain himself to avoid her. He could hold a conversation with her, even gain the upper hand in a debate. But he _was_ hung-up, and his friend Barry could see this very easily. And Owen couldn’t laugh about the way he felt, not honestly. It was easy enough for Owen to admit that felt something – had “feelings” – for a woman who didn’t care if she ever saw him again – Owen liked to face the world head on and see it for what it was – but admitting that those feelings were wearing him down was another matter, and much more difficult.

 

Seeing Claire was bad enough for a heart still on the mend, but she wasn’t alone. At first it had looked like a normal conversation between colleagues, but Claire was now resting her hand on this unknown man’s arm and laughing effusively at everything he said. The most telltale sign was when she tucked her hair behind her ear and let her fingers linger on her neck.

 

Barry winced for Owen’s sake and then looked over at him. Owen was chewing on his lip as he watched, frowning resignedly.

 

“That’s probably the kind of guy she usually goes for,” Owen remarked tensely (and a little bitterly), not taking his eyes off of Claire. 

 

“No doubt.”

 

“Nice suit.”

 

“A month’s paycheck for me,” Barry replied, studying the man’s expensive three-piece. It wasn’t practical for the local weather. “He’s probably just here for the day,” he comforted. “No one who lived here would be dressed like that.”

 

Owen sighed. “You don’t have to do that.”

 

“What?”

 

“Try to make me feel better. I can handle…” he flung his hand vaguely towards Claire to indicate the situation.

 

Unfortunately the gesture caught Claire’s attention and she glanced their way. She saw Barry first and her expression turned wary, then her eyes met Owen’s.

 

Owen stiffened.

 

“You just had to come in here,” Owen joked to Barry, turning away from Claire as rapidly as he could.

 

But Barry continued to watch Claire. He watched as her lips hung half-parted for just a second too long, he watched as she straightened herself and twirled with great deliberation back to her companion, and he watched as her body continued to show intense awareness of Owen’s presence.

 

Maybe this wasn’t as one-sided as Barry had presumed.

 

“You and this woman, too much pride,” Barry lamented, half to himself.  

 

“You can say that again.”

 

“No, you too. _You too_ , Owen. But I think you may have right about your ‘Titian’ Beauty-“

 

“Hey, I said that one time. One time!” Owen scolded, wagging a finger at him. Then he paused. “Right about what?”

 

“The last thing I want to do is encourage you, but yes, I think _la demoiselle_ is holding on to something. She reacted to you. Just a little too much. She is not indifferent.”

 

“I never said she was _indifferent_ : she doesn’t like me. I noticed her reaction as well – annoyance. Apprehension. Flight instinct.”

 

“Ms. Dearing doesn’t avoid men she dislikes, she walks over them. But she avoids you.”

 

Owen digested that for a second, grinding his teeth in unwilling thought. “You’re right, don’t encourage me.”

 

Barry laughed at him. “Let’s go, my friend. I’m hungry.”

 

Owen didn’t notice, but Claire watched them leave.


End file.
